"Word around the castle is the king's getting restless again," one guard said to the other, punctuating his boredom with a drop of his pole axe and startling the civilians as they passed by, not daring to look up.

"Again?" his cohort wearily sighed. "I thought he'd given up on it."

The former scoffed and shook his head. "Apparently not. Some new development's set him off again."

"What does that mean for me do you think?"

A disconcerted silence fell over them as they realized the journey that could soon be pressed upon them. The first guard pushed the issue to the back of his mind with a harsh sniff and brought his pole axe down against the stone once more, distracting himself and breaking the tension with the small thrill of scaring the townsfolk.

Inside the dark castle a meeting was being held. A gathering of Gaernod's finest generals had been called to order. 

"The elves?"

"Skittish as ever, Ryne. I made an example for them at the gate a few days ago. We shouldn't have anymore curiosity out of them."

Ryne flashed his thin smile. "Nice touch," he said, earning a smug smile from the other man. To remedy that, he added, "for a newborn," and the grin quickly faded. "Why don't we handle this situation like adults? Send soldiers into the forest. Tell them to go farther in every day until they reach the base of the Aforthians. Show those elves who they answer to. Not like they can do anything about it."

He received several agreeable nods from around the table, but one man remained unconvinced. 

"And if we find a few trolls at the foot of the mountains ready to pick a fight? What will that mean for me if my men get slaughtered?"

Ryne tilted his head and threw a disdainful look his way. "Have some common sense, Threskan. You think we'll stop at the woods? We've got a trail to blaze. Once you've pushed through the woods, send two men to the top of the mountain and keep them there. After the trolls, there's really not much to worry about, is there? Turn those brutes into cowards and don't let them forget how low they really are. And I don't want to hear anymore contradictions from you. Is that clear?"

"Understood," Threskan muttered begrudgingly. 

"That's why he's the commanding general," the man next to him whispered, laughing at Threskan's embarrassment. 

"Right. So everyone just shut up. We've got some prepping to do before we take everyone on the road." He reached into his pocket and retrieved a fistful of harshly crumpled parchment, throwing it to the center of the table. "Take those to your best men and make them perfect, or you'll find yourself facing the battle with no foot soldiers to shield you."

That got them motivated.

"Is it true what he's going to do?"

"You mean the king?"

"Of course the king. Who do you think?"

"Shut up. Of course it's true. Why wouldn't it be? It's not surprising. Finish that stew or it'll be you who's under threat."

Dark and red meat was carefully added to the broth that bubbled over a steady flame despite the shaking of the cook's hands. The news had spread through the castle from top to bottom, finally reaching the lowly kitchen staff. 

"So if he's gone, what will that mean for me? My husband's in the army. Who'll care for the animals?"

"It'll have to be you, won't it?"

"I'm not doing it. I do enough for the family. I do my part. Maybe I'll make my oldest do it. He's nearly three. It's about time he made himself useful."

"You're starting him late, if you ask me. I had mine cleaning the stalls soon as he could lift a shovel."

"How soon was that?"

"About twenty months."

"He could lift a shovel at twenty months?"

"Well. It was a small shovel."

"Is that so?" he asked as he adjusted his gaudy crown, resting his chin in the curve of his fist and leering at the ceiling. "And how soon will it be? Why are you telling me this?" He paused, then laughed at the absurdity of the response. "You think I'll take it easy on him? You really are the fool I took you for."

The conversation ended, but there was less fear than he would have liked.

Elsewhere…

"King Afor," a voice echoed to him from the distant entrance of the hall. The length of the room forced his people to feel his gaze on them as they crept toward his throne. He didn't even have to move to intimidate them. It was a beautiful thing. Even his greatest general couldn't hold his gaze as he approached and knelt before the throne. "Your Highness, we're preparing to clear the path. There shouldn't be any trouble."

"Have you told your men yet, Ryne? Do they know what we're planning?"

"They've got nothing but rumors to go on."

"And who allowed enough information to slip through the cracks for there to be rumors?" Afor asked, curling strong fingers around the black, stone arms of his throne, imagining they were truly gripping his general's neck.

Ryne caught the movement, but smiled anyway. "I did, Your Highness." He received a very intrigued raised eyebrow from his king. "They're not going to have a choice. It's best that they start fearing for their lives now. Makes them more at peace with dying later."

"A kind gesture, Ryne. You surprise me."

"Never, sire," Ryne said quickly. "The more prepared for death they are--the more they expect it to find them--the more willingly they'll seek it out when we tell them to. Get them used to hearing about it and they won't remember that it's anything more than a brief sleep. They'll think it's something temporary."

"Romanticizing through horror stories?" Afor mused as he leaned back. "Make death seem like a fantasy..." He grinned, eyes glinting in the dark. "Do you realize what this means for me?"

Ryne laughed and nodded stiffly, uncertain of the stability of his king but seeing nothing to lose.